


Who's Wearing the Panties?

by Emela



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Derek in Panties, Dirty Talk, Dressing Room Sex, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mirror Sex, Panty Kink, Praise Kink, Public Sex, Rimming, Silk teal to be exact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 09:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4014523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emela/pseuds/Emela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles discovers Derek's secret kink: silk, teal panties, which <em> of course</em> Stiles is only too willing to indulge his boyfriend in playing with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who's Wearing the Panties?

**Author's Note:**

> The sweetest of anons asked me if I could post this short tumblr fic I wrote as a present for their Birthday today! So here it is lovely, and Happy Birthday again! May all your sexy fantasies come true today! ;) 
> 
> P.S. the very awesome and beautiful [ hoechlinslapsdylansbutt](http://hoechlinslapsdylansbutt.tumblr.com/) made an [ edit](http://hoechlinslapsdylansbutt.tumblr.com/post/119890439007/have-you-heard-that-apparently-a-lingere-company/) for you all to feast your eyes upon if you want a hot Derek Hale visual before reading ;)

Having been in a relationship with Derek for five years, Stiles thinks it’s safe to say he knows him pretty damn well. They discuss feelings and everything now. Stiles knows about Derek’s secret love for ‘N Sync and Derek knows how fast Stiles can drink a gallon of milk in. You know, the important things.

It didn’t take them long to find out about their sexual kinks either. That probably took them the shortest length of time actually and Stiles is proud to say they are anything but vanilla. Not that there is anything wrong with vanilla, but it would have sucked if Stiles had ended up with someone like, well, someone like Scott really. Stiles _knows_ Scott has a good sex life (to the everlasting horror of his brain) but it’s not what Derek and he have. Nor what he has or will ever want.

Sure, they slow bone and look into each other’s eyes and all that shit. Stiles isn’t dissing that part. That part is his favourite. But it’s all the things leading up to the slow boning, the intense, freaky I-can-only-do-this-with-you-while-I’m-in-you staring.

It’s the role playing.

The toys.

The occasional (but not so occasional) spanking.

What it is not is cross-dressing.

Does lingerie even count as cross-dressing? Fuck if Stiles knows, or cares, because right now all he can see, all he is consumed by, is the look on Derek’s face- the look he gets right before sex- as he’s stealing furtive glances at a pair of silk, teal panties while Stiles tries to remember which colour of tights he is supposed to pick up for Lydia for her party tomorrow night.

In the end, he takes both the green and the purple pair because he does not want to face her wrath if he chooses wrong. Especially because her tights probably revolve around some weird colour scheme Stiles is also supposed to remember.

“You okay there, big guy?” Stiles teases, coming up to stand behind Derek and wrapping his arms around him. Derek jumps at the touch and Stiles wonders just how deep in thought (or fantasy) he had been to not know he was behind him because, you know, _werewolf.  
_

“Fine,” Derek grits out, making to turn away from the entire section, but Stiles bars his exit, waggling his eyebrows in a manner he knows Derek both finds ridiculous and oddly appealing at the same time.

“What’s the rush?” he asks, playing coy. “Don’t you want to try those on?” He nods in the direction of the panties and watches in cruel delight as Derek’s face flushes pink. Really _flushes.  
_

Because that’s another thing he’s learned about Derek over the years. He wouldn’t call it a feminisation kink exactly, but Stiles _knows_ Derek is not imagining Stiles in the panties (although he’s almost certain Derek wouldn’t be adverse to him wearing them if he chose to). 

“Try what on?” Derek asks and if Stiles didn’t know him like he does, he would have believed himself to be mistaken about the whole thing.

But luckily for him (and Derek) he does know him.

Very.

Very.

Well.

“Come on,” Stiles grins, grabbing the exact pair of panties Derek was looking at and taking him by the hand, dragging him towards the changing rooms. 

Derek lets himself be led, but Stiles thinks that’s more to do with the fact he has no idea what to say than anything else.

There’s no-one guarding the changing rooms when they get there- a sign from the gods Stiles was meant to see Derek in nothing but lacy teal today- and Stiles quickly shoves Derek inside one of the stalls before someone does come back and puts an end to the fun before it can even begin.

“Stiles,” Derek hisses when he shoves the underwear into his hands. “We _can’t.”_

Stiles puts a finger to his lips to indicate that even though they are physically concealed, anyone might still hear them, and sits down on the far-too-small-for-anyone’s-use seat, a knowing grin plastered on his face because there is no way Derek isn’t going to do _exactly_ what Stiles wants him to. 

It’s only a few more seconds before Derek loses whatever war is going inside his head and he’s stripping out of his clothes. Stiles wishes he would go slower, put on more of a show, but he supposes they are on a bit of a limited time schedule here and plus, Derek needs to be naked before the _real_ show can begin anyway. 

Once Derek is gloriously naked just like Stiles likes him- if it was up to him Derek would be naked all the time- Stiles lowers himself on to his knees and wraps his mouth around Derek’s cock, taking it as far down as he can go.

Stiles loves feeling Derek harden in his mouth even more than the sight of him already red and leaking when he takes him out of his pants. But what he loves more are the times Derek is forced to be quiet, like now. Contrary to what Stiles first expected when they got together, Derek is _loud_ during sex. Crazy, the-whole-street-can-probably-here-you loud.

So, naturally, Stiles likes to have sex in public as often as possible, just to watch as Derek deliciously tries to hold back his pants and moans because while Stiles has a bit of an exhibition kink, Derek certainly does not, his whole body flushing pink whenever there is a chance of them being caught. Once they even did, but it turned out to be Boyd which was a pretty dire moment for all of them.

When Derek is nice and hard, Stiles pulls off of him with a wet pop, smirking when Derek tries to glare at him but fails, and holds up the pair of panties for Derek to step into.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” Stiles whispers, so low only Derek will be able to hear it. 

Derek blushes beautifully in return, but takes one foot and slides it through anyway before doing the same with the other.

“Good boy,” Stiles praises, pulling them up nice and slow, enjoying the way Derek hisses when he takes his cock and traps it inside the panties along with his balls. The front dampens instantly and Stiles really wants to take a picture to savour the moment, but knows he won’t be able to peel his eyes away long enough to find the camera on his phone.

“How does it feel?” he asks, running a hand over the material. Derek bites his lip, barely managing to suppress a moan.

“Good,” he admits. “Really good.”

“I’m glad,” Stiles says. “You _look_ so good like this, Der. So pretty.” He runs his nose along the fabric then, enjoying how smooth it feels and breathes in the musky scent of his boyfriend. Stiles’ scent never fails to drive Derek wild- Derek has come more often than not just from scenting Stiles alone- but Stiles doesn’t think Derek quite appreciates just how good he smells to _him._ Stiles doesn’t know if it’s because Derek is a werewolf or just because he’s in love with him, but Derek’s scent is like fucking captnip.

But where Derek likes to pay special attention to Stiles’ neck, Stiles prefers to invest his time in somewhere far more intimate with Derek.

Leaning back, he motions for Derek to turn around which Derek does without hesitation, bracing his forearms against the mirror, already knowing what’s coming. You could say that makes them predictable, that they’ve gotten to that we’ve-been-in-a-relationship-for-a-long-time-now stage, but then again, they _are_ having sex in a public changing room, so Stiles isn’t about to care. He doesn’t think he and Derek will ever have to worry about their sex life becoming boring anyway…or any less frequent for that matter. Even when they have kids (something they have actually discussed), Stiles will always make time to blow Derek in the shower. (Because Stiles is and always will be awesome like that.)

“God, Derek, asses like your’s are made for _consumption,_ not to sit on,” Stiles says, admiring the way the panties frame it. Stiles always thought thongs were the sexiest piece of underwear, but he was so, so wrong. _These,_ Stiles has no idea what to call them other than _nnngh,_ are far sexier. Spreading his cheeks through the fabric, Derek’s hole teases him through the thin veil of teal and Stiles blows hot breath over it, his own cock beginning to leak in his own underwear when Derek clenches around nothing, greedy and wanting.

“You would think after five years you would be a little better at dirty talk,” Derek snarks. Stiles retaliates by pushing the fabric aside on his right butt cheek and biting down, smirking smugly when Derek is unable to hold back a whine.

“Always seems to work for you though, doesn’t it, buttercup?” he says, pulling the material back the rest of the way until Stiles can spread Derek’s cheeks properly, exposing that beautiful, pink hole to his hungry gaze. Assholes aren’t beautiful, probably not by anyone’s standards, and even back in the days Stiles only watched porn (his lack of a sex life as a teenager is not something is cares to be reminded of thank you very much), he was always more concerned with the guy who was eating his partner out than the other guy, _but Derek._ Derek’s hole is…he can’t even describe it. Inviting, maybe. Cum-worthy. _Home._ And yeah that last one is probably a little (see: a lot) weird, but Stiles always feels most at peace when he’s rimming Derek, even when his cock is straining in his pants, or so far past aching to be touched he can’t think anymore. 

Conscious they might not have much longer before someone comes back, he doesn’t waste any time in delving right in, massaging Derek’s rim with his tongue, sloppy and open mouthed, just like both he and Derek like it, sliding one of his hands around to Derek’s front to cup his cock through the panties, fondling and brushing a thumb over the leaking tip until Derek’s legs start to shake with need and pleasure.

“You’re doing so well,” Stiles praises, leaning back a little to nibble around his hole instead, allowing his jaw to relax slightly. “Are you going to come for me soon? Ruin your panties before you’ve even bought them, like a naughty boy?”

Derek whimpers in response and pushes his ass back further, begging Stiles to fuck him with his tongue.

Stiles, not one to deny Derek anything (usually), does just that, pushing his tongue past the rim, allowing the tip to dip inside that now puffy, pink hole, fucking him with small, staccato like jabs that make Derek mewl.

“You’ll need to buy them now,” Stiles hums agaisnt him, slipping a hand under the panties to play with one of Derek’s balls, pulling it gently, so full with the need to come. “You’ll make such a pretty picture, Derek, cheeks flushed with embarrassment when you hand them over to the cashier, soiled with your cum, showing them just how good you are for me wherever we are. I think I could fuck you over the hood of my jeep, car after car passing by and you’d let me. Let me show off that pretty, pink hole to everyone that drove past.”

Derek makes a noise like he’s dying, shuddering and parting his legs further, because he’s losing his ability to stand or because he’s asking for something Stiles isn’t sure, but before he can think on it, Stiles stands up and presses his clothed erection agaisnt Derek’s ass, grinding against him and kissing his neck between words of praise and encouragement.

Derek’s stance slips even more as he begins to pant more harshly, like he always does just before he climaxes, but Stiles holds him up by the waist, keeping him where he wants him as he ruts against Derek faster, feeling his own orgasm closing in, his stomach muscles clenching as Derek tries to grind back into him, Stiles’ name a string of broken sounds on his lips.

“Please,” Derek begs, looking up to watch Stiles in the mirror behind him- and fuck, why weren’t they watching each other like that the whole time?- but Stiles doesn’t get the chance to do anything more to help before Derek is stilling and coming hard which Stiles does his best to catch in his hand, biting down on the meatiest part of Derek’s neck as he reaches his own climax, lowering his face at the last moment to muffle his moans against Derek’s tattoo.

They stand like that for a few minutes, coming down from their highs and when Stiles looks down, he can’t help but grin when he sees that the panties are completely ruined.

“I think it’s safe to say we will be buying more than just one pair of panties today,” he says. “Do you have any preference in colour? Personally, I think you would look great in pink or red.”

“Stiles, shut up and let me enjoy my after glow.”

“I just gave you a mind blowing panty orgasm, you should not be sassing me, Hale.”

Derek is quiet for a moment before saying, “I’d like a black pair.”

Stiles laughs so hard he nearly falls on his ass.

**Author's Note:**

> My [ tumblr](http://pale-silver-comb.tumblr.com/) where you can come and talk to me about Derek Hale in lingerie any time ;) 
> 
> EMBRACE ALL THE LINGERIE KINK!!!!


End file.
